


Music of Love

by LokiTheTimelord



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Eldritch!Geralt, Follows some Netflix!Witcher events, M/M, This is a drabble with little story plot, mainly fluff, there's other characters but theyre minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiTheTimelord/pseuds/LokiTheTimelord
Summary: Short fluff story of Geralt and his interactions with Jaskier.Geralt's an eldritch/other worldly creature and this shows his thoughts on what happens in the world and some of Jaskier.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 14
Kudos: 85





	Music of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd!

It had been a long while since it had inhabited a witcher. The young boy it crafted into existence to inhabit didn’t mean to become one but it was a nice surprise. He, might as well fit the role, found it laughable when the witchers didn’t question as to why he could survive the mutations and more. They kept pushing and prodding with more and more mutations to the body that was already far beyond the normal for humans, it was exciting for the witcher school and they jumped on it like the wolves they were.

When a bard came to him after years of solitude, they passed like a blink to him, it was refreshing. He recalled fondly on his experience as a bard a few decades back and wouldn’t mind a companion. What the bard, Jaskier, called brooding was simply him slipping out of his shell for a moment, stretching out into a dimension they couldn’t see. (Although he did see a few men suddenly grow pale and leave so at least a few were gifted Sight) When Jaskier followed him he was quite happy, a new companion and amusement within the same day.

When elves tied him up, it was laughable. Though he did feel for Jaskier’s poor lute.

“This is the part where you save us!” Jaskier hissed at him, which was immediately responded to with a cursing remark in elvish by the wounded girl.

Geralt slipped into the tongue easily, remembering when it had first cropped up before the spheres collided. It had a rather unique grammar that he was proud of creating.

‘So foul tongue for harming two people who haven’t wronged you. Do you always kill innocents for what they could not control?’ He asked. He felt like being mysterious today apparently and was rewarded with faces of surprise and a few confused noises from his bard behind him.

‘You dare speak our tongue?’ The girl hissed, crowding into his face close enough to where he could count every pore if he wished.

‘It’s not yours if I created it, let us go.’

‘And what makes you think you can claim a part of our history, witcher?’ Filavandrel asked, curiosity written across his face.

Geralt stretched, spreading what was not in his witcher shell across the open air of the cave. It weighed the air down as he covered it. Reaching his influence passed weak mental barriers and forcing a temporary link with the two elves brought upon his form. A merciful rendition of only two dimensions filled with teeth and eyes were enough to make them go pale after cutting the link after only a few seconds.

“Geralt? Geralt, what's happening?” Jaskier smelled of concern and a tinge of sour fear that wrinkled his nose. He found he didn't particularly like his bard smelling of fear.

“Just some friendly conversation.” He replied, monotone as if he hadn't just unfolded and scared two elves. 

The two elves seemed to get a grip of shaking hands and drenching sweat to handle a dagger and quickly cut them free. A little bit of influence peppering his words to get a new lute for his bard, and a short agreement of plans to help the elves back on their feet and they were gone.

“So…” Jaskier drawled once he was walking along Roach and Geralt. “Did you do some sort of witchery magic?” he wiggled his fingers,”Make the air all thick like fog to scare them off or something?” Before Geralt could reply he held up a finger and quickly fished out a battered notebook to scribble something down.

“Something like that.” He replied once Jaskier put his hand down. The bard nodded and started to strum his lute and hum. Geralt faintly wondered how Jaskier would've reacted if he had Sight or made a bond. Would his bard still travel with him?

-

The Striga was exciting as it was a creature that could at least part of his form. It hissed and yowled at his many eyes as they stared down at it. He let his body take a few hits from the Striga, purposefully slowing his footwork. It was a lesson hard learned that people dislike uninjured witchers, makes them feel uneasy if a fight seems simple. When enough of his black blood painted his arm he surged forwards and held the Striga down with his presence. Shadowed limbs kept him from getting scratched. As he waited for sun rise with a screaming Striga writhing beneath him, he thought back to the delicious meal the mage made. Magical filled blood was always a nice snack laced with fear, the mage's lifeline was going to be cut by the Striga so it made little difference if he died by Geralt’s hand instead.

The writhing form beneath him shifted and changed, animalistic yowls became grunts of a young woman. She clawed uselessly at him with her blunt nails. Triss’s scent made its way to him before she entered the chamber, met with him unfolded, teeth eyes and limbs all spread across the woman while a hand covered in black blood held her throat tightly. Triss took a step back as the eyes looked at her and as teeth came to test her taste.

In an instant, Geralt was folded. (He may have let it slip from his mind that mages have a more powerful Sight than humans) A hand was still holding down the girl even as she worked a still clawed hand to swipe at his throat (how did he miss that she wasn't fully human yet?) and he backed away, not stumbled. He held the girl down with limbs to keep the mage safe as black blood swirling gold spilled from the wound.

“What are you, witcher?” Triss asked, horror tinting her voice. Geralt ignored her for a moment in favor of knitting the flesh back together. It didn't cause his actual self harm but he didn't want this puppet to go so soon.

“Something old.” He said. With a brush of his hand over the pooled blood it slowly seeped back into skin, a sickening sight he was sure.

A disgusted and wary mage, an ancient horror, and a former striga made their way back to the King's castle. Geralt got his pay, a warning, and justice for the witcher who came before him. 

-

Geralt's happiness is palpable in several dimensions when he meets his bard again and then promptly goes on a hunt to get coin. (He can't spoil his bard with luxuries if he can't afford them)

In his excitement he may have accidentally killed the Selkimore far too fast, ripping into it with so many mouths often does that. It's meat tasted tough and bitter but it was food nonetheless. 

He steps forwards towards what's left of the body, bones, and is abruptly in front of the inn door. He opens it up and makes a trill above human register at the sight of his bard happily getting details from the contract giver, he didn't care to remember his name. The contract giver was pale and looked at him with wide eyes before quickly running off and out of the room. Jaskier made an affronted noise at his details running away.

Geralt leaned against the bar beside Jaskier in the still too quiet tavern. Whatever the man said seemed to affect them, make them wary and he couldn't have that. With a slight amount of effort he wormed into their minds, not Jaskier's of course, and tore out the details causing them fright. He watched as human brains, and one halfing one, quickly filled in the gap of the story and vanish the fear.

Jaskier didn't notice as Geralt sat beside him and took a drink from ale that wasn't there a second ago. 

“Working on a new song?” He asked in his gruff tone. This body was surprisingly hard to push emotions through and he disliked it.

“Mhm, had to get details since _someone_ doesn't talk about his hunts.” He pointed an accusatory look at him which he simply raised a brow to. If he were to truly tell how the hunts went then his bard would leave him and he didn't want that...unless the bard didn't believe them? He had no reason to.

“If I were to say, you'd call them forgery.” He replied and took a sip of ale. He was more interested in the scent of hesitation on the bard than testing theories.

“I promise I won't laugh.” His bard batted eyelashes at him and Geralt frowned at how easily he was letting himself get swayed.

“I'll tell you over a bath then, I'm covered in Selkimore blood.” It _was_ starting to cake on his armour but he mainly didn't want this conversation in reach of so many eavesdroppers.

So soon the duo was in a room, Geralt in a bath relaxing and Jaskier sprinkling some herb into the water.

“Are you going to ask?” Geralt questioned, leaning back to look at his bard dancing around the room, abuzz with some sort of energy. The smell of hesitation thickened as he paused.

“I was wondering, since I've been making such an image for you and all, if you'd perhaps help me with a little problem? A one day problem?” The bard's voice was small as he asked, afraid to be shot down.

Geralt almost felt like his bard was a fool for thinking he wouldn't help him. With a smirk he nodded. “Of course, Jaskier. What's this problem?” Geralt literally heard Jaskier's heart skip a beat.

“Body guarding! Specifically my body that needs guarding tonight, at a feast.” He rubbed his hands together in excitement,”The Queen of Cintra asked me to perform at her feast! Yet, there's lots who want me dead for supposedly running out of bed chambers,” he scoffed,”I don't run, I valiantly retreat from scorn and punishment.”

-

And that was how Geralt found himself dressed rather elegantly in leather armours and silks, Jaskier had actually listened to his requests. Red silks tucked and weaved throughout grey and gold armour accented his figure nicely with his pale parlour.

“Geralt of Rivia!” A slightly tipsy and bombastic voice shouted, garnering almost the whole feast’s attention. Ah, Moussack, how Geralt misses the peace already.

The mage approached him with a spring in his step. His sight wasn't as good as that Striga mage’s, Triss, so it was simple to shift himself away from seeable dimensions.

“Greetings Moussack, I see you've worked your way into the court life.” The mage only grinned before downing a partial drink, saying something along the lines of ‘Wolf’s got a songbird!’ and wandering off to chat.

Geralt tilted his head in confusion, wondering why the mage didn't stay to chat when he felt the presence of a golden clad lioness staring him down. He stared his many eyes back as he turned, relishing in the small since that it garnered. He rather disliked the lady Cintra, finding her much too reliant on a witcher to rid problems if the taste of thoughts he was getting was anything to go by.

Yet he accepted the offer of a seat beside her and took more interest in her guests than her attempts to get him to kill others. He could smell a cursed man approaching, pulling himself out of the thoughts of the men (had to pass the time somehow) and focusing as the doors bursted open with a commotion.

Words were thrown as he defended the cursed night and when swords were drawn he showed little mercy for those trying to hurt an innocent. He easily surged his presence through the room, crippling many before they got close, although he did cast a few Aards to keep suspicion off, and only let a few actually face his steel.

The sweetly and sour scent of chaos flooded the room as Pavetta started chanting. The lioness of Cintra was cast back, offending sword being flung aside. Geralt quickly made sure Jaskier was alright in all of this, shielding him partly with his presence while he pushed through the chaos. He wove between the twisting magic, deflecting it away and allowing him to slip through it. A single touch of his hand pulled the chaos away from Pavetta and willed her to stop chanting.

Geralt didn't really focus on what happened next, he was paying more attention to his presence wrapped around the bard than the offer of gifts and the sudden new ownership of a child. 

-

The next time he scents his bard is when he's trying to remove a Djinn. They were much too dangerous in human hands and so that's how he found himself throwing a net around a swath of chaos that emanated from the bottle all around this part of a river. 

He found it oddly endearing that his bard thought he was catching fish, the look of surprise when a bottle came up was rather nice. Yet the panic that ran through him when Jaskier snatched it from his grasp was almost overwhelming.

“Jaskier, what are you doing?” He asked, eyeing the bottle wielding bard carefully.

“So now you pay attention to me? When I'm a danger?” Jaskier hissed. The anger was surprising to Geralt, how had he not noticed?

“What do you mean? I pay attention.” 

Jaskier made an affronted noise, sputtering for a moment. “Half the time I talk you don't even listen! I stood here on the bank making conversation and you were simply stuck in your head!” He supposed he did do that, thinking of the bard. But he hadn't realized it took up so much awareness that he didn't see the bard talking.

“And then you look at others with more interest and vigor than the man who invited you to events! You stormed out and then don't even make contact with me for years!” The bard looked down at the bottle, then back at Geralt,”With this bottle you listen, any other time you simply look at me like you're better, like you know more than you’re letting on about me!” His hands were shaking now, tightly gripping the bottle. “I wish for once in your life you'd pay attention to me! I'm not some sort of object!” With a shattering sound, the bottle was thrown against the ground and the wind whipped up in the area. 

Geralt staggered to the side, feeling chaos rip through him and force his eyes open, all of them. They felt like needles pinned them open, all forced to focus on Jaskier. It was painful and too much. Information about the bard and anything surrounding them suddenly assaulted him as the feeling was increased tenfold. Normally he could handle it, normally it was fine, but normally didn't have chaos acting as a magnifying glass and making the world so bright and so so loud. 

He saw Jaskier rush towards him, he had to look up at Jaskier, not of his own actions as his eyes followed the bard, and at some point he apparently crumpled down to the ground. Fear and worry invaded his nose as Jaskier questioned him.

“Geralt? Geralt?! What's wrong? Why does the air feel weird?!” The bard was feeling millions of eyes on him, what did he expect to happen? He almost said as much when Jaskier babbled out another wish.

“-I wish I could see you, see what's wrong, what's happening.” Geralt saw the bloody mark on Jaskier's arm form, his only warning before chaos reached into him and Jaskier. The bard screamed and covered his eyes as magic invaded his system, rewiring his brain. Geralt screamed as chaos pulled him through all his dimensions to rest with ones the bard could see, limiting his massive form to only six dimensions.

Between the pain of being forced into smaller dimensions that was almost crippling, he could hear Jaskier still babbling scaredly, with a growl of annoyance he invaded the bard’s mind and forced him to stop talking before he wished for something else. It was only blissful silence and pain for a few sweet seconds as chaos ran its course through Geralt. He compressed and folded in on himself as best as he could so he wasn't cramped in the dimensions. 

Jaskier gapped and wheezed, trying to make words come out, a hand supporting his almost crumpled figure from fully going into the dirt while the other covered shut eyes with a white knuckled fist. Fear was reeking from him and it made Geralt feel bad for stealing away his bard's ability to speak. He could deal with any pain the djinn brought, it wouldn't be permanent but it had simply surprised him enough that he lashed out at Jaskier for something he didn't know he was doing. With a quick nudge to his mind he took away the command and Jaskier bursted out.

“OH SWEET MELITELE THAT WAS AWFUL!” His voice was a shout, which he jerked in surprise when it sounded instead of wheezes,”. . .oh my gods my eyes hurt.” He said after a moment. His hand fell away from his eyes, they blinked open and then immediately went into a squint, waiting for them to adjust.

“I don't think it did anything. . .” The bard started before his gaze swept over Geralt and he immediately recoiled with a shout and scooted back in the dirt. “There's a monster behind you Geralt! Run!” He scrambled to his feet but said ‘monster’ gripped him before he could get very far. When the bard screamed at that it tugged at Geralt's heartstrings, a sad and discordant noise thrumming through him. He let the bard go and folded more in on himself, forcing eyes to disappear and closing others much to the djinn’s anger. He wished to disappear, knowing he could simply hop to one of many dimensions within his easy reach, but leaving the bard felt like a worse idea than just taking the insults thrown his way.

It fell silent and Geralt opened an eye, not the two on his face, to look at Jaskier. The Bard was watching him carefully, gazing up at some of the unfolded parts of Geralt. He had apprehension on his face and a tinge of fear scent but nothing else. A hand, so small in comparison to the mass form that currently looked golden and black and was swirling around like stars, softly touched Geralt. Eyes opened up at the contact, staring down at the hand. He felt Jaskier flinch but not pull away.

“. . .What are you Geralt?” His voice was quiet and Geralt knew he was trying to find the right words. “Are all witchers like this?”

_So monstrous, so hideous, so unthinking, uncaring as to if his bard gets hurt-_

“. . .are they all so beautiful?”

. . .

_so. . .beautiful?_

Geralt looked up at him, with his two golden eyes this time, and was silent. His bard was. . .sincere. there wasn't a single line in his body that said it was a lie. He looked at Geralt and smiled, it was so bright he almost wanted to shut a few eyes but that would mean he wouldn't be able to see Jaskier. 

“I. . .” He closed his mouth. He didn't know what to say, didn't know _how_ to say it. It seemed a long time before he could actually talk and Jaskier waited patiently, still touching him, still smiling.

“. . .no, the others are normal.” Jaskier nodded at that. He nodded at his omission of monstrousness, of being hideous, of being-

“You're unique.” 

_of being ~~hideous~~ unique_

He smiled back at his bard, still so unsure but feeling so loved and understood at the same time. “I suppose I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked this little drabble. Mainly something I did in my free time so it's story was fairly short and jumped.


End file.
